


Outcast

by TiredRazzberry



Series: A Squire [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Child Abuse, Class Differences, Cousin Incest, F/M, Family Drama, Family lore, Greyjoy Rebellion, House Payne, Hurt/Comfort, Kinslaying, Loss of Parent(s), Murder, Period Typical Attitudes, The Hooded Man, parental abandonment, post-adwd, to say the least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-22 05:06:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3716227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiredRazzberry/pseuds/TiredRazzberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Podrick had always been the outcast of House Payne. Half-lowborn and utterly graceless, as well as wordless, there was not much for any member of his family to be fond of in the boy. When Kevan Lannister turned him over to the Imp, the House breathed a sigh of relief, if they noticed the boy was gone at all. The boy's disappearance from King's Landing following the Imp's flight was given little thought. Many assumed the boy would never be seen or heard from again. </p><p>Alas, the Gods were not so kind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Boy No One Wanted

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own Nothing.

The name Podrick Payne was inked into the records of House Payne for the third time on the first day of the second month of the year 286 AC, two days after the boy's birth at Blackbridge Castle. There was discontent at the announcement of the boy's birth. Lord Pate Payne, the Head of House Payne, nearly met it with his nephew's disownment.

"A _chandler's_ daughter. That fool fucked the chandler's daughter and _married_ her. And now they have brought some squalling bastard into the world, another mouth to feed at that despicable hovel they call a castle." Lord Pate fumed at the high table the evening of the raven's arrival. The Lord's wife, Lady Jeyne, had laid a staying hand on his arm to quiet him, lest he draw the servants' attention and make a mummer's show of them.

"Calm yourself. You sound like a man I know you are not, my love." She whispered in his ear. It was her place to scoff about whores and bastards, never her husband's in all their years together. Hearing him huff and puff like that worried her. 

Pate sank deep his chair with a sigh, his gut shoving the table two inches forward as a result. "Alyn is lucky he wasn't born a Lannister." He grumbled. "You've heard what Tywin did when his youngest ran off with some whore. Any other man would have been glad to be rid of the dwarf, but no...Lord Tywin would not allow such a shame to go unpunished and, more over, uncorrected." 

"You would never do to Alyn and that girl what Tywin did to the dwarf and the whore." Jeyne pointed out. It was obvious to her that he was all talk; her husband was merely upset.

" _Of course not_. Still, this boy is becoming more troublesome by the day. If he were not my brother's son, were he not so good-natured, if naive. If I did not love him like my own son, I might be tempted to emulate the Lord Lannister." Pate lamented.

"What do you suggest we do, love?" Asked Jeyne. 

Pate sighed and grumbled unintelligibly under his breath as he prodded the leg of lamb on his plate. At last, he said, "We must salvage the family honor. First, by moving them out of Blackbridge. That hovel is unfit for a newborn, and Hadwyn would be glad to be rid of three burdens. As for the young family's housing, we'll ask House Lefford to take Alyn on as a squire--he's only sixteen, not too old, and his grandmother was a Lefford so it's a prudent placement."

"Do you honestly believe that the Leffords will accept a chandler's daughter as a Lady in their house?" Their son Edric interjected.

Pate grimaced as Jeyne gave her son a withering look for inserting himself in a conversation that hardly concerned him. "Lady Lefford is always in need of a companion. The woman is simply so insufferable that she sends her fellow ladies running for the hills. The candlestick girl won't have that luxury, however, which Leana will much appreciate, I believe." She educated her son. 

Edric's mouth formed a petulant line. "And Lord Lefford?" 

Pate and Jeyne scoffed in perfect unison.

"As if that old lech will turn down a fresh set of teats and a new pretty face in his household." Laughed Jeyne, taking up her chalice for a sip of wine. 

The letter to House Lefford was sent the next morning, and another to Blackbridge in the afternoon. Replies to each arrived midday the next day. Lord Lefford's nephew Lenyl Lefford would indeed be willing to take on Alyn as a squire, and Alyn perfectly consented to such a position so long as he would not be forced to abandon his wife and child at Blackbridge where he feared his brothers may neglect them. Arrangements were hastily made and before Podrick Payne knew his sixth moon, the babe found himself saying goodbye to his birthplace seemingly forever for the Goldentooth.

Word from Lady Leana that the boy was a well behaved infant who scarcely cried and was good to his nurse was the last Lord Pate and Lady Jeyne would hear of the child for three years. In that time, the boy was forgotten, and so was the candlestick girl, and nearly Alyn as well. There was no grief among House Payne for the absences of the former two. 

* * *

The Greyjoy Rebellion broke out in the early days of 289 AC. Lord Pate raised his banners as did Lord Lefford and the two marched off to war side by side as the two houses had done for generations, among them their heirs, their cousins--many of them shared--and their nephews, Lenyl and Alyn. Lady Jeyne was left to rule Oar's Rest in the absence of her husband and son. She was thus the recipient of a rather poorly written letter from a girl who styled herself Maerie of House Payne in the early days of the war. 

_Your Lordship Pate of House Payne,_

_Foregive my i ~~mpe~~ ~~impudi~~ rude beehaveor by sending you this letter in such bad times of war. How ever, I could not hold by ~~tun~~ tongue, My Lord. I fear for my self and my boy Podrick. What will happen to us if Alyn dies out there? If my husbend's blood is to paint the rocks of the Iron Islands or if his body is to feed the beast of Greyjoy's sigil which I hear lives in the waters of the sea, then might I at least know what will happen to me and Pod? I am not high born, I know, but Podrick is a true born Payne. I swear by the Gods, My Lord. He is. He should be treated like the high born he is even if his father is dead, even if his mother is a chandler's ~~dotter~~ child. So will you not take care of him if Alyn dies like you took care of Alyn when Lord Donnel died. I know you are a good lord, My Lord. You have all ready ben so kind to us. I hope that you will contenue to show my son and I kindness even if Alyn dies. If not, I fear I might have to do some thing I would not like to in order to carry on. _

_Your most humble and graceious servant,_

_Maerie of House Payne_

Jeyne did not pay the letter much credence. The girl's fears were unfounded, at least on the part of Podrick Payne. The boy was indeed a trueborn Payne. Her husband nor herself or any other Payne would allow the boy to be raised lowborn, regardless of his father's fate. Jeyne cast the letter into the fire and quickly forgot about the trivial incident as she carried on her work.  _  
_

Two turns of the moon later, another letter arrived at Oar's Rest bringing tidings from war front, courtesy of her son Edric. 

_Dearest mother,_

_I am saddened to report that during a skirmish on Great Wyk we have lost several of our kin. Lord Leo Lefford was felled by the sword of a Merlyn or mayhaps a Farwynd. His son Leo has already taken his father's position as the leader of the Lefford host. He strangely has shown no great loss at his father's demise. On the bright side of things, Lords and Ladies will no longer be subject to confusion between father & son. _

_As for our house, we have lost Alyn and Hadwyn. Hadwyn stumbled off the ship drunken and swinging his sword at allies. A week into our campaign, Father had ordered him sober. He soon found himself well-watered at other camps. Sadly, during one of these excursions Hadwyn began to lament Robert's rebellion and Lord Tywin's so-called cowardice then. He declared for all the host to hear, "Had he not been yellow, our pants wouldn't be brown." Whatever his meaning by that, a Marbrand man took offense and challenged him to a duel. Hadwyn did not fight the duel, but the next day in battle, he was reportedly overrun by three enemies at once, and nearby Marbrand men refused to aide him._

_Alyn was lost under more noble circumstances. He took a blow for our cousin Lenyl Lefford, just two days ago as I am writing this. He went in Lenyl's arms in the midst of battle. We at first feared he might have done it in grief over Hadwyn, but Lenyl testifies that Alyn was too brave for suicide._

_Do not fret over their widows. Word has been sent to Lady Bessa at Blackbridge already, and Ser Lenyl has taken the liberty of writing to the candle girl at Goldentooth. Ser Lenyl was, dare I say, rather eager to break the news himself. He assured me that it would be in the most kind and sympathetic terms but I do suspect he has greater motive for his actions than kindness. I have spoken to Father on the matter briefly but the subject did not hold either of our interests for long, especially in light of the injury Father sustained during battle._

_Fear not, 'tis only a flesh wound. The maesters do not believe it will become infected, but only if he returns to the mainland post-haste. I certainly agree with him. Father will likely arrive at the Crag shortly and I will take his position in his absence. It is about time anyways, as Father only grows older each day._

_Give my wife Alyssa my warm regards and be sure to regale Petyr with tales of his father's heroics. And Lynesse must be assured of my safety, Mother. She simply must. I do believe that I miss my little daughter most of all. Be sure to tell her that, right before Petyr's eyes. She will get a lark out of that._

There was a messy blotching of ink then, as if Edric meant to end the letter right there, but hesitated suddenly, struck by a sudden thought.

_Forgive me, Mother. I nearly forgot somehow.This war is an excellent opportunity among houses to lay the foundations of profitable betrothals and fosterings. Irwyn's younger boy Gavan will squire for Ser Robert of House Brax it appears. As for Cedric, I fancy the boy will be knighted soon. Lord Quenton Banefort is fond of him, likely due to their similar unruly dispositions. Please speak with Alyssa about fostering Petyr at Ashemark under the care of House Marbrand._

_All the blood and steel aside, this war has been very lucrative for our house. While we're at it, we may even find a place for that Podrick child. House Bettley may take the boy._

_All my love and respect,_

_Your eldest son Edric_

The war ended before the year did with a resounding victory over the Ironborn rebels. Jeyne was mightily surprised by King Robert's mercy on Balon Greyjoy but it passed quickly and she bore such an attribute in her king no ill will. A forgiving king was better than an unforgiving one.

Her husband and child returned to her at long last and with plenty of good news to make up for their absences. It had been decided between Lord Marbrand and Edric before leaving the Iron Islands that Petyr would indeed be fostered at Ashemark, and Gavan was to squire for Ser Robert of House Brax. Gavan's elder brother Cedric was knighted in the last days of the war, as expected.

The only disappointing note was that no house or knight seemed willing to bother themselves with Podrick Payne. The boy was, after all, the forgettable son of a third son of a second son by a Chandler's daughter. He was not even the heir of Blackbridge, their cadet branch seat. He was the heir to nothing. And now he was an orphan of a squire. Not even a knight. In the eyes of many Westerman, the boy was little better than his bastard cousin Myriad of Oar's Rest.

But at least Myriad's mother had some worth as a talented and beloved singer in the Payne's Hall. With the Wren for a mother, the girl could at the very least sit at the table among her trueborn kin every once in awhile. 

"What will happen to Podrick Payne now, My Lady?" Myriad asked Lady Jeyne one evening after the adults finished their grousing over the uselessness of a boy that no one will foster or have for a squire or betroth their daughter to.

Lady Jeyne brushed a stray dark hair from the girl's face as she gently explained that the decision was Lord Pate's. "He will decide what to do with Lady Maerie and her son." 

"Could they come and live here at Oar's Rest, My Lady? I wouldn't mind sharing my room and neither would mother with Lady Maerie. Right, Mother?" The girl turned to her mother with an excited little grin.

The Wren did not pause in her song as she shot her Lord and Lady a pleading look. 

Myriad looked around the table with confusion as her various kinsmen regarded her as the naive and ill-bred creature she was. 

Not long after Myriad's unwise suggestion, a raven from Goldentooth arrived. A most entirely upsetting letter. 

"Ser Lenyl actually intends to marry the candlestick girl?" Lady Alyssa exclaimed, aghast. 

"Intends? He's already done it by the looks of this buggering letter!" Shouted Pate, ripping the parchment three times over in his anger. "I always knew she was a greedy whore. I should have taken a note from Tywin's book--or at very least had the harlot poisoned!" 

Jeyne recoiled at her husband's words and took several steps away from his side to the other end of the solar. "If that is truly how you feel, husband, how do you suggest we react to this news?" She seethed. Jeyne was not shy about harsh words, but she would never tolerate threats of violence outside of consecrated battle. Murdering women and children was a cowardice she would not tolerate within her house. The redness in Pate's cheeks faded and he looked ashamed of himself, if still furious. 

"What do I care? She is no longer of House Payne. Not that she ever was really. All that matters to us now in regards to that woman is her boy." He grumbled. 

"Lenyl spoke fondly of the child in light of Alyn's demise." Edric cut in. "Podrick is an agreeable child, I'm told." 

"A good nature won't matter if we have nowhere to put the boy." Pate spat. 

"Mayhaps we won't have to worry about putting him anywhere. Lenyl may care for the boy as his own, and when the boy is old enough we might retake ownership of him as a squire and prepare him to take on Lordship of Blackbridge if Irwyn's line proves ill-fated." 

"And mayhaps Oar's Rest as well if similar fates were to befall Petyr and his heirs." Jeyne threw in, casting her daughter-in-law a meaningful look. Alyssa bowed her head like a thin branch under heavy storms. "Let us hope that Petyr will be gifted a baby brother or two in the near future, as to send the candlestick girl's spawn further down the line of succession." Jeyne added, and then she took her leave from Lord Pate's solar. 

A raven arrived from Blackbridge a fortnight later bearing urgent news from Lord Irwyn. On the day the letter was written, the widowed Lady Leana Lefford arrived in the company of a small force of Lefford guards, two lady maids, the recently dismissed steward of House Lefford, a septa, and a small boy of four years identified by Lady Leana as Podrick Payne. As a favor to Lady Maerie, Lady Leana had explained, she had agreed to escort to the boy from Goldentooth to Blackbridge Castle on her journey to her own birthplace at the seat of House Yarwyck. The boy was unceremoniously handed off to his relatives' care along with the young septa, and Lady Leana took her leave. 

 _Something must be done, Uncle. We have little funds to maintain our household as it is. The Black Bridge does not garner as many tolls as it once did since panning the mountain streams along this stretch of the Tumblestone has begun to yield little more than pebbles, and the towns lining the river shores are similarly very poor since the floods this past spring ruined the crops and killed the livestock. Please, take this boy. We have no use for him here,_ the last of Irwyn's letter read. Lord Pate read it with much huffing and puffing. Edric and Lady Jeyne braced themselves for a brief bout of fuming. 

"And now she has abandoned the boy..." His lordship growled lowly. Lady Jeyne and Edric remained carefully silent. 

"Fermont." Lord Pate snapped at his steward. 

"Yes, My Lord?" 

"Take a letter. Ready? Good. Dear nephew, _This is most grievous news_. Lady Maerie has become not only a thorn in our sides, but a dagger in our backs. Worse than a backhanded slap! Rest easy, however, for I have a plan to navigate the obstacles the little whore has put it on our way. Send Podrick to Oar's Rest where he might spend time in the company of his family _at once_. We shall observe the boy and prepare him hastily to impress our fellow Westermen when I host a tourney in the coming months to celebrate the end of the war and bring some much needed fresh revenue into Oar's Rest..." Lord Pate carried on for quite some time with ever growing fervor as he described the tourney he saw in his mind's eye. Jeyne grew more anxious with each syllable that passed her husband's lips. 

* * *

 Podrick Payne arrived at Oar's Rest on a barge pulled by a team of mules along the river bank a week later. He was accompanied by Lady Bessa and the septa who had previously accompanied the boy to Blackbridge. Lady Jeyne and Lord Pate came to greet the boy at the docks themselves rather than sending Edric and Alyssa or Fermont.

Podrick was small for his age, which Jeyne found inexcusable considering he had spent his life entirely at Goldentooth. He was by no means starving there. It had to be his mother's lowborn blood, she decided as the boy was carried from the barge to be set at her and her husband's feet by the septa. Up close, all hopes the boy was a bastard who could quickly be tossed in a gutter and forgotten about were dashed. Podrick possessed the straight, dark hair and the dungeon dark eyes of House Payne, and held a great resemblance to her own sons, particularly Jon.

Once before them, the boy dipped into a low bow. His chin almost knocked against his knees, and he swayed on his feet straightening up. The septa put a steadying hand on his slim shoulder.

"It is very nice to meet you, My Lord and Lady. My name is Podrick Payne." He said in a soft voice perfectly fit for a child his age. He then looked over at the septa who smiled encouragingly at him and nodded her head. The boy's face lit up with a great big smile that Jeyne could not help but find the missing milk-teeth endearing. She recalled Jon's milk-toothed grins.

Her husband must have felt the same, as he fought himself down into a crouch and said to Podrick with a true smile, "It is very nice to meet you as well, Pod. I am your uncle Pate, and this beautiful creature is your aunt Jeyne." 

They returned to the keep where the boy was greeted with mild curiosity if he was paid any mind at all. Only Myriad seemed to anticipate the boy's arrival, and for no reason other than the fact he was her family and she inherently loved him. Lady Jeyne ordered the Wren to take the girl into town until dinner so they could assess Alyn's child in peace.

Much to the horror of her Ladyship, no amount of peace could seem to quell Podrick Payne's utter gracelessness. The child did not have much idea in the ways of proper speech. Aside from the use of titles, Podrick was fond of dropping the 'g's at the ends of words, elongating sounds in words that had no need of it, and slurred his words together worse and worse as he recited a long sentence. His knowledge of Houses was atrocious even for his age. "House Lancaster," He called it once, and he went back and forth on his pronunciation of "Tyrell." Sometimes treating is as a two syllable word, other times slurring it all together so it rhymed with the name Cyril. No one seemed to have read much with the boy, either.

By the way he acted it seemed that, more often than not, the boy forgot he was not some stable boy's bastard but rather a member of a distinguished House. 

"Mayhaps we expected too much. He is only four, My Lady." Said Alyssa at the great table that evening with hope in her eyes that someone might agree with her. She was quickly disappointed.

"Petyr did not act like Podrick when he was four. He was a little lord in waiting at two. And Lynesse was a lady at three. And Mother, did either I or Daven or Jon act as Podrick does? Were we not well versed in our courtesies and aware of our statuses by then?" Edric addressed his mother demandingly. 

A sharper tongued side of Jeyne longed to remind Edric of the many instances his 'well versed' and 'aware' four-year-old person ran the halls naked and tried to eat yellow snow out in the training yard. Something in her son had always made Jeyne want to tear him down, part of her believing that to let him build himself too high would be apocalyptic. Alas, sometimes she had to hold her tongue for the sake of a point. "We'll dismiss his septa. She's too soft. We'll have Lynesse's septa take charge of him instead." Jeyne glanced out over the hall and the tables her servants gathered to eat, eventually finding a familiar child among the rabble. "And keep Myriad away from the boy as much as possible." She added. Her husband nodded his firm agreement. 

* * *

 Septa Wylla took great joy in having another boy to take charge of, as she favored boys as students over flighty girls like Lynesse. Wylla announced with great joy that she planned to begin her teachings to Podrick with his house history. Curious and seeking to escape the planning of her husband's precious tourney, Lady Jeyne found herself sitting in the corner of the library with a book she didn't much care for really as the septa carried out her lessons. 

"House Payne was founded by the First Men in the Age of Heroes, a _very_ _long_ time ago, and it was sworn to the Hooded Kings of Banefort until King Morgan was overthrown by the King of the Rock. Throughout the ages, House Payne has ruled most of the Tumblestone river valley. All rather boring stuff really; far more interesting is the story of its founding!

"The name 'Payne' comes from the founder of your house, my little Lord: Torrek the Tearful. Torrek was a dear friend to the Hooded Man, the founder of House Banefort, and he was by the Hooded Man's side from sunrise till sunset, for he loved the Hooded Man with all his heart. One day, Torrek fell in love with a newly arrived maiden at the Hooded Man's court. Alas, the maiden was betrothed to another man and had come to court to marry him at long last." Said Wylla to her eager audience.

Lynesse loved the story of the golden coins and was already dreamy-eyed. Podrick looked rather distressed by comparison.

"Oh no." He whimpered at his ancestor's plight. 

Wylla and Jeyne both chuckled.

"Do not fret, Little Lord. Listen to the rest of the story. Now, Torrek was very, _very_ upset that the maiden was to marry another, but he could not bring himself to protest against the marriage. You see, the maiden was betrothed to none other than the Hooded Man. As he loved his friend so very much and thought himself too lowly for the maiden, Torrek remained silent and made his love for the maiden a secret. However, this drove him from his King's side. Torrek felt like a horrid traitor for lusting after his friend's betrothed.

"The Hooded Man became curious as to what had gotten into Torrek, and went looking for his friend one day only to find him crying. The Hooded Man demanded as his king to know what had made Torrek cry so that he might know if he would fetch his sword to slay whomever was responsible." 

"And what did Torrek answer, Septa?" Burst forth Lynesse with a broad smile, though she already knew the answer. Podrick jumped at the outburst, and the septa gave the girl a withering look before she continued.

"Torrek answered that his heart was full of _pain_ and that he could not help but cry. When asked why his heart was full of pain, Torrek said he had fallen in love with a woman he could not have. The Hooded Man took pity on his friend and resolved to take away his pain. Sadly, the Hooded Man did not understand love or how deep a wound love could leave on someone's heart. The next day, the Hooded Man gave Torrek a bag of gold coins. Torrek thanked the Hooded Man but could not stop crying. The day after that, the Hooded Man gave Torrek _more_ gold. Still, Torrek could not cease to cry.

"The Hooded Man continued to give his friend gold every day for a fortnight before finally asking Torrek, 'Why do you still cry? With this gold, you could have all your heart has ever desired.' Torrek shook his head at his friend's foolish words and replied, 'But not her. I fear I will cry myself to death if I cannot have the maiden whose loss has filled my heart with pain.' Torrek then tried to give all the gold back. The Hooded Man was moved by this gesture, finally understanding that money could not substitute love.

"The next day, the Hooded Man asked Torrek who the woman he had fallen in love with was so that he may give her to Torrek and dry his tears at long last. Torrek answered that it was no use, as the maiden he loved was to marry the next day. Realizing that Torrek meant his own betrothed, the Hooded Man returned to his keep to fetch her and then returned to Torrek to fetch him as well. He led them into the Godswood, and there he married them. When Torrek asked why he would do such a thing, the Hooded Man declared that Torrek had so impressed him with his love for the maiden and himself that he had decided the only reward fit enough was the maiden's hand and all the gold that had been given to him in the past fortnight. Torrek graciously accepted his rewards, and built a keep along the Tumblestone on the foundations of the cabin he'd been born in twenty years prior, and a town along with it. We sit in that keep today, children, and the town surrounding us has become known as Oar's Rest."

Lynesse applauded the end of the tale and Podrick soon followed her lead. Jeyne looked on with disappointment, wondering when the day would come when someone might notice that the maiden's feelings weren't paid any heed at all in the story. Not even by the man who supposedly loved her so much he'd cry himself to death without her. 

* * *

Podrick ate up his lessons like they were his favorite pudding. As the tourney approached, Lord Pate and Lady Jeyne grew hopeful that someone might take an interest in the boy after all. "House Bettley or Banefort might make good fosters for the boy. They'd both make a great knight out of a fool. Podrick would pose no challenge." Said Pate with great enthusiasm to his wife as they prepared for bed the evening before the first guests for their tourney were due to arrive. Already, sellswords, mummers, and whores had flooded the streets of Oar's Rest.

"I worry more about securing a bride for the boy." Jeyne admitted. "Young as he may be, it would be wise to prevent him from going down the same path as his father. I will write his mother to gain her consent in arranging a marriage for the boy." She announced before blowing out the candles on her bedside. 

Maerie did not reply to Jeyne's the letter, and on the fifth day of the tourney, the reason why became apparent. 

"Mother! Mother!  _Mother!_ " Podrick screeched in an undignified manner as Bessa and Septa Wylla hauled him back towards the keep, away from the tourney grounds and the hundreds of eyes that observed the child with varying degrees of shock and distaste.

In the previous days, Podrick had been perfectly behaved and had even impressed some of the Lords and Ladies in attendance with his docile nature and good graces. Now, however, Lady Jeyne saw those same Lords and Ladies visibly second-guess their opinions of the child. She quickly joined Lady Bessa and Septa Wylla in the keep. She ordered the boy to beaten for his outburst--nowhere bruises might show--and then had him confined until that evening's feast. 

Jeyne thought that a good thrashing might teach the boy a lesson. Sadly, the moment Podrick set eyes on his mother for the second time that day, he once again began screeching. "Mother! Mother!" He screamed above the clamor of the feast. Down in the tables, Maerie only glanced up before looking stubbornly down at her plate. Her husband at least had the grace to flash the boy a smile and give him a wave. Podrick would not be placated, however, and Fermont was ordered to take the boy away to be given another beating. When finished, Fermont attempted to return the trembling child to the feast, but Lord Pate would have nothing of it.

"Lock him away in the Wren's chambers with Myriad." He ordered his steward instead. 

Podrick remained confined to the keep for the rest of the tourney's duration, safely away from either sight or sound of his mother. Not that that stopped the boy from asking after her a countless number of times. Lord Pate and Lady Jeyne knew there was no hope of ridding themselves of the boy through another house's means thanks to the ruckus he'd kicked up.

On the final day of the tourney, Lady Maerie and Ser Lenyl were invited into Lord Pate's solar to discuss the child's welfare. Only Ser Lenyl came. 

"I apologize, My Lord, but we simply cannot take Pod." Lenyl politely refused Lord Pate's plea for the couple to take the child back. 

"With poor Alyn's death, this marriage is a new beginning for my wife. That boy...he is just a gross reminder of a painful past. I entreat you, keep him. He is of your house, after all, not House Lefford. Besides, Maerie is bearing my son. Why should I deprive my own heir of his mother's attention in favor of my squire's heir?" Ser Lenyl then bid the Lord and Lady of House Payne goodbye. That evening word reached the high table that the knight and his candlestick wife had taken leave of Oar's Rest almost immediately following the former's meeting with Lord Pate and Lady Jeyne. 

The tourney ended with no arrangements made for Podrick Payne. No fostering, no betrothal, no anything. 

"It's the child's name." Irwyn reckoned following the tourney's end. He and his wife, Lady Jeyne Ruttiger, had not attended the tourney, instead they had arrived on the last day in order to turn over custody of their son Gavan to Ser Robert Brax and reunite with their eldest, the newly knighted Ser Cedric Payne. "The first Podrick Payne had his throat slit on his wedding night by his Andal bride." 

"And the second one fathered Ilyn Payne. Indeed, what an unlucky name!" Cedric threw in with a bark of laughter.

Lady Jeyne and Lord Pate ignored the young knight as they continued to drown their sorrows in Dornish Red. As they went deeper and deeper into their cups, the situation seemed to grow more dire in their swimming old minds. As the evening wore on and her good sense gurgled on wine, Jeyne began to loathe the boy called Podrick Payne and the burden his existence had imposed on their house. She was on the brink of contemplating what her sober self would feel unthinkable when her gaze was drawn by the laughing likes of Cedric Payne. 

"I refuse!" Cedric declared angrily the next morning in the wake of Jeyne and Pate's proposal, or rather their  _command_. 

"You have no right to." Pate pointed out. 

"Pay me." Pleaded Cedric. "I won't take the boy on if he will be nothing but a burden. I demand payment for taking him as a squire." 

"Oh," Scoffed Jeyne. "You want to play like that, boy? Fine, than we expect the same from you." 

"What?" Cedric croaked in surprise. 

"We paid your way with House Banefort. Do you think your poor father paid for all your clothes, armor, and horses? Do really believe Lord Banefort so charitable?" 

Cedric lapsed into an angry silence and took his leave of the solar, likely to sulk.

Three days later, Cedric look leave of Oar's Rest altogether on a barge. He departed with a hearty mare, freshly polished armor, provisions to last two people the next month, and a young boy all but tied to saddle of a spotted pony. As the barge was pulled downriver by the mules on the bank in the direction of the Riverlands, Jeyne watched from the battlements of Torrek's Keep with great relief. When the barge finally disappeared around the bend in the river, she sighed and thanked the Seven aloud. 

"Will Podrick ever return, My Lady?" A curious little voice, melodious as her mother's spoke. 

Jeyne looked down at her side to see Myriad had been watching right along with her the whole time. The girl had tears in her eyes. No doubt she and Podrick had grown close during their confinement. Jeyne reached down and stroked her head gently, like the daughter she never had nor really had want for. "Hopefully." She lied mercifully. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TO HELP YOU KEEP THINGS STRAIGHT---  
> House Payne:  
> >Current Lord: Lord Pate Payne, married to Lady Jeyne, formerly of House Estren. Born 239 AC.  
> >>Edric Payne, married to Lady Alyssa, formerly of House of Yarwyck. Born 259 AC.  
> >>>Petyr Payne, born 282 AC. Ward of House Marbrand of Ashemark.  
> >>>Lynesse Payne, born 284 AC.  
> >>Daven Payne, deceased prior to the Greyjoy Rebellion. Born 263 AC.  
> >>Jon Payne, deceased prior to the Greyjoy Rebellion. Born 267 AC.  
> >Lord Donnel, brother of Pate Payne, died of an infected wound sustained at a tourney. Born 240.  
> >>Lord Hadwyn of House Payne of Blackbridge, married to Lady Bessa of House Bettley. Deceased. Born 255 AC.  
> >>Lord Irwyn of House Payne of Blackbridge, married to Lady Jeyne of House Ruttiger. Born 257 AC.  
> >>>Ser Cedric Payne, former squire of Lord Quenton of House Banefort. Born 272 AC.  
> >>>Gavan Payne, squire of Ser Robert Brax. Born 278 AC.  
> >>Ser Raymun, widower of Lady Tya Ruttiger. Disappeared shortly after Robert's Rebellion. Born 258 AC.  
> >>>Myriad of Oar's Rest, bastard of Ser Raymun Payne by the Wren. 281 AC.  
> >>Alyn Payne, squire of Lenyl Lefford. Married to Maerie Chandler. 270 AC.  
> >>>Podrick Payne, born 286 AC.  
> Other members:  
> Ser Ilyn Payne, King's Justice, younger cousin of Lord Pate and Lord Donnel. Born 241 AC. Was removed from line of succession of Blackbridge by his grandfather when he was unable to learn how to read and write and refused to marry in favor of his cousin Donnel Payne.  
> Torrek the Tearful/Torrek of the Tumblestone: legendary ancestor.
> 
> Line(s) of succession:  
> For House Payne of Oar's Rest:  
> 1st--Edric Payne  
> 2nd--Petyr Payne  
> 3rd--Lynesse Payne (disputable)  
> 4th--Irwyn Payne  
> 5th--Cedric Payne  
> 6th--Gavan Payne  
> 7th--Podrick Payne  
> 8th--Ilyn Payne  
> 9th--Lynesse Payne (possibly)  
> 10th--Myriad of Oar's Rest (if legitimized)
> 
> House Payne of Blackbridge:
> 
> 1st--Cedric Payne  
> 2nd--Gavan Payne  
> 3rd--Podrick Payne  
> 4th--Lynesse Payne (possibly)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please comment below!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

_Petyr Payne, son of Edric Payne and his wife Alyssa Yarwyck, was born 282 AC. He lived as a ward of Lord Damon Marbrand of Ashemark following the Greyjoy Rebellion until his fourteenth nameday, upon which he began to squire for Ser Addam Marbrand who dwelt at Casterly Rock. Petyr was knighted following the Battle of  the Greenfork during the War of the Five Kings by Ser Addam Marbrand himself. He accompanied Ser Addam to King's Landing for the royal wedding. In light of House Frey's defection from the Stark rebels and their rise to Lords of Riverrun, Petyr Payne became destined to wed Lady Marissa Frey on his eighteenth nameday in the year 300 AC._

_Lynesse Payne, daughter of Edric Payne and Alyssa Yarwyck, was born 284 AC. Lady Lynesse was educated by the esteemed Septa Wylla in her youth until the Septa's death in 294 AC. Following this great loss, Lynesse was sent to Casterly Rock to be a companion to and receive further education as a highborn lady from Lady Dorna Swyft, wife of Kevan Lannister. This arrangement came to an end shortly after Lynesse's betrothal to Ser Lucien Lannister, second cousin to King Joffrey the First of His Name. Ser Lucien and Lynesse wed in the first days of the year 300 AC. Lynesse fell pregnant soon after her wedding._

_Jon Payne the Younger, son of Daven Payne and Jolly Jocelyn Estren, was born in 279 AC. He was named for his uncle, Jon Payne the Elder. Died of a pox in 280 AC alongside his parents._

_Daven Payne the Younger, son of Jon Payne and Bethany Estren and twin brother of Jocelyn Payne the Younger, was born in 280 AC. He was named in honor of his uncle, Daven Payne the Elder. Died of a pox in 280 AC alongside his parents._

_Jocelyn Payne the Younger, daughter of Jon Payne and Bethany Estren and twin sister of Daven Payne the Younger, was born in 280 AC. She was named in honor of her father's goodsister and her maternal aunt Jolly Jocelyn Estren. Following the death of her parents and brother in the plague of 280 AC, the child was cared for by her grandparents, the good Lord Pate Payne and Lady Jeyne Estren. In 285 AC, a betrothal was negotiated with House Banefort. Lady Jocelyn the Joyless died in 286 AC while at play by the river with her cousins Petyr and Lynesse under the watch of Lady Alyssa Yarwyck._

_Cedric Payne, son of Irwyn Payne and his wife Jeyne Ruttiger, was born 272 AC. Until the birth of Jon Payne the Younger when he was seven years old, Cedric was the ultimate heir of House Payne. Though he was continuously displaced in the line of succession for Oar's Rest, Cedric grew up safe in the knowledge Blackbridge would be his, as his uncle Hadwyn's wife Lady Bessa Bettley was determined barren by several knowledgeable maesters. Cedric Payne began to squire for Lord Quenton Banefort following his eleventh nameday and remained in his service until the final days of the Greyjoy Rebellion when Lord Banefort awarded him a knighthood at the age of seventeen. Within the following year, Cedric graciously took custody of his younger cousin Podrick Payne as a squire following his first tourney as a knight at Oar's Rest. The two wandered the Westerlands and Riverlands for some eight years as Cedric took on the role of a hedge knight like his father before him. In 298 AC, the War of Five Kings erupted and Cedric was among the host led by Tywin Lannister that marched east into the Riverlands to avenge the insult of Tyrion Lannister's kidnapping by Catelyn Tully. Cedric perished in battle at the hands of Tully bannermen. His squire Podrick Payne testified that he had fought and fallen like a true knight. In the wake of Cedric's death, his betrothal to Jeyne Buckwell was renegotiated to his younger brother Gavan Payne._

_Gavan Payne, son of Irwyn Payne and his wife Jeyne Ruttiger, was born 278 AC. At age twelve, Gavan became Ser Robert Brax's squire. At age twenty, Gavan was knighted by Ser Robert in the early days of the War of the Five Kings in light of his heroism and skill in three previous battles. At the battle of the Whispering Woods, Gavan was grievously injured and then sent up the Tumblestone River to Oar's Rest to recuperate. His betrothal to Jeyne Buckwell came to an end when Gavan eloped with his bastard cousin Myriad Hill in the last days of 299 AC. The two returned to Oar's Rest months later after Myriad fell pregnant. The couple was soon sent downriver to Blackbridge in disgrace by Lord Pate._

_Podrick Payne, son of Alyn Payne and Maerie Chandler, was born 286 AC. Before his first nameday, Podrick Payne was sent along with his parents to Goldentooth where his father was to squire for a distant cousin by the name of Ser Lenyl Lefford. Podrick would remain at Goldentooth until his father's death during the Greyjoy Rebellion. His mother married Lenyl Lefford shortly after his return from war and sent Podrick to the place of his birth, Blackbridge Castle, a mere month after the wedding. Lord Irwyn was ordered to send the boy up river to Oar's Rest where the child was educated. After nearly half a year, Podrick began to squire for his cousin Ser Cedric Payne, very likely becoming the youngest squire in the realm as a result. Podrick and Cedric wandered the Westerlands for eight years until Cedric perished in the first days of the War of the Five Kings. Podrick remained with Lord Tywin's host as a guard of his lordship's baggage train. Kevan Lannister eventually took custody of the boy and soon bequeathed him as a squire to Tyrion Lannister. Podrick would remain in Tyrion Lannister's service throughout his tenures as acting Hand of the King and Master of Coin until the Imp's fall from power with his assassination of King Joffrey. While the Imp's trial was in progress, two marriages were considered for Podrick Payne. Initially a betrothal to Marianne Vance was favored, as the girl was a descendant of Lord Walder Frey and a cousin to Marissa Frey, his own cousin Petyr's betrothed. However in light of Gavan Payne's elopement and scorning of his betrothed Jeyne Buckwell, Lord Buckwell became enraged and demanded a consolation; a marriage to Jeyne Buckwell was carefully considered by Lord Pate as well. Neither betrothal came to fruition as Podrick disappeared from King's Landing shortly after the Imp fled his execution._

They hoped to find the boy alive. If only to quell Lord Buckwell's wroth. A raven from the Crownlands had just arrived the hour before, warning of harsh repercussions if Lord Pate failed to come up with some sort of consolation prize for his daughter. Though word was that the girl was perfectly happy to flee to a septry once she was freed of any expectation of marrying a Payne. If they did not find Podrick Payne soon, the girl might have her way and House Payne's coffers may sit emptier.

Lady Jeyne slowly turned the pages back several times, leaving the tedious descriptions in favor of the branches and fruits of black ink that made up the Payne family tree. 

"Look at all those scratched out names." Lady Jeyne whispered as her fingers traced the angry black lines that marred the names of Jeyne Buckwell and Merry Vance next to Podrick's in the far right bottom corner. 

"My Lady?" Alyssa looked up from her needlework with confusion. 

"The men of House Payne have poor taste in wives." Lady Jeyne declared in a sigh. "Just look at this page alone. My husband's Lord father, Willem Payne, would have no other than Jeyne Lefford, the most narrow hipped, breastless creature in the Westerlands at the time. She could hardly give him two living sons. After Donnel hardly any babe she bore managed to take its first breath. Jon, Daeron, and four other boys from what Pate has confided in me--all stillborn or dead within a year. It was a gift from the Gods that little Jeyne Payne lived long enough to wed Lyle Garner and bear him a son. Great good it did his line in the end, however." The closeness between the birth dates and death dates of her good brothers was revolting to Lady Jeyne's eyes. 

 

Jeyne diverted her attentions to her husband's name to the far left. 

"And my Pate," Jeyne smiled exasperatedly at her name inked beside his on the yellowing parchment. "He scorned half the ladies in the Seven Kingdoms before we wed. Donnel was no better. He married Elinor Moreland because otherwise Hadwyn would have been a bastard. I suspect they actually planned it, as rumor had it at the time that as soon as Elinor's sixteenth nameday passed, her father intended to wed her to some Riverlord who'd gone through three wives already." 

Alyssa looked utterly scandalized by her mother-in-law's frank speech. Jeyne imagined the girl would have given all her jewelry and silks to be allowed to flee with even a few shreds of pride and dignity intact. She knew very well her own head would soon be on the chopping block. Lady Jeyne carried on with no regard for Alyssa's wants.

"Ilyn Payne's father had _some_ sense. The last drops this house would ever possess it seems. Lord Podrick married the bride his father secured for him in his infancy without fuss. Alysanne Yarwyck, your grandsire's sister, was no beauty by any means, not for one instance in her life, but she was dutiful and intelligent. I imagine Podrick saw those traits and decided, very wisely might I add, that they outweighed any measure of beauty. How unfortunate it is that their son was not as dutiful as them, at least in regards to his own kin. Look at this. Look at all these scratched away names! All these lucrative marriages Ser Ilyn has turned away because he'd rather make himself a groom of the Stranger than a warm-blooded wench!

"Agnes Garner, Bethany Estren, Eleonora _Lannister_ , Betha Blount, Jeyne Rosby, and Jeyne Buckwell. If he had married Lady Agnes or the Rosby girl, today their lands would be ours. If he had married Bethany, my own boy Jon wouldn't have had to marry the whore. Had he married the Lannister girl, we'd perhaps possess fuller coffers. Betha Blount, Jeyne Rosby, and Jeyne Buckwell would have given us an even greater foothold in the Crownlands and at Court--Lord Buckwell certainly wouldn't be frothing like a mad dog this moment, that's for certain!" 

Lady Jeyne turned her attentions to her sons' generation, seething.

_Edric Payne, B. 259-_

_Alyssa Yarwyck, M. 282_

_Daven Payne, B. 263 -D. 280_

_Jocelyn Estren, M. 279 D. 280_

_Jon Payne, B. 267 - D. 280._

_Bethany Estren, M. 279 D. 280_

She glared daggers at each of the names writ by each of her sons', save for one _._

Not a day passed that Jeyne did not regret consenting to her brother's proposals and pressuring Pate to do that same. Bethany and Jocelyn had been her eldest nieces and Jeyne had adored them when they were girls, like her own daughters even. She had been deeply regretful that Edric was already betrothed to Lord Yarwyck's eldest daughter when her brother came to her with marriage heavy on his mind. So instead of Edric, Jeyne convinced her lord husband to betroth his cousin Ilyn to her eldest niece Bethany.

Sadly, Ilyn was as taken with the idea of a wife at forty as he was at eighteen, and he rejected the betrothal with as much vehemence as a mute could. Her brother had been livid and would only be soothed by her youngest son Jon taking Ilyn's place at the alter. Jeyne and Pate consented to renegotiation rather hastily in hindsight, and hasty decisions were rarely good ones.

They learned too late how great of a mistake the match was. As it turned out, Bethany had no patience for her thirteen-year-old husband, and soon she found herself in both Edric and Daven's beds. Jon had been hopelessly confused and hurt when his wife turned up pregnant without his help. Jocelyn had been appalled with her sister's behavior.

Jeyne loved Jocelyn with all her heart when the girl named her newborn son Jon after her cuckolded good-brother, whose wife named her twins after her own sister and Daven a mere week before in some spiteful jest. Jocelyn should have been Jon's, Jeyne thought then and still did now. Those two good hearts deserved far better than the spouses they got thanks to Jeyne's folly. 

It should have been Bethany alone who was taken by the plague that swept up and down the Tumblestone river valley in 280. Alas, the gods were unkind, and Jocelyn, Daven, and Jon were taken with her. Not a day passed that Jeyne did not regret not casting Bethany out the day she first coughed. Or better yet, having the Strangler slipped into the drinking water the servants brought her each morning and evening. 

"Lady Jeyne!" Alyssa gasped, and Jeyne realized she had spoken aloud. It occurred to her that she was almost as old as her Aunt Eleyne had been when she went a touch mad and not realized when she was speaking her thoughts. They'd had to lock in her away in her chambers when there were guests to be entertained. Jeyne glared Alyssa into submission, not appreciating the reminder of her advanced years, however unintentional. "You should be grateful that your husband's mother would like to confide in you. Do you think Lady Cassella Lefford even acknowledges the candlestick girl's existence?" She scolded. 

Alyssa did not flinch at that as she had hoped. Instead, curiosity and concern washed over her features. "Lady Jeyne, has there been any word of Podrick?" She asked. 

Jeyne blinked in surprise at the question at first, but quickly composed herself and replied dismissively, "None. Petyr wrote from Ashemark that no Lord or knight in the West has reported sight of the boy since the Imp's trial, even along the journey back to their keeps from King's Landing. He's likely dead." 

The situation was frightfully similar to what had happened to the boy's uncle Raymun who had disappeared following the Sack of King's Landing. No missed him either, except for his daughter Myriad. 

"Oh," Alyssa wrung her hands. "Petyr didn't think to tell me that. All he told me of in his letters was that Ser Addam did not seem to mind the time he was spending with his daughter."

Jeyne narrowed her eyes at that. "I hope that boy of yours doesn't have it in his head that he may snub Marissa Frey if it is for his former master's daughter. Ser Addam is the second son of a third son. His daughter is worth no account to the future Lord of Oar's Rest." 

"But..." Alyssa met Jeyne's eye. "Marissa's father was a  _Frey._ "

Jeyne ordered her from the room. 

* * *

She was watching a barge pulled by mules make its sluggish way up the Tumblestone towards Oar's Rest when the Wren came running along. She was short of breath, a rarity for the exceptional singer, so Jeyne knew she had come to her as quickly as her feet could carry her. "M'lady, Lord Pate's horse has fallen on him!" The singer coughed. 

They rushed to Maester Timmett's chamber, and Jeyne left the Wren out in the hall with other concerned servants. Inside, Edric was already at his father's side, holding a twisted rag between the man's teeth while Maester Timmett worked. Jeyne caught a glimpse of her husband's left leg and felt ill. She collapsed onto a stool in the far corner and watched the scene play out before her with dumbstruck expression. Pate screamed around the rag. His bones cracked. Edric cursed like a sellsword and the Maester panted at the effort of resetting his lord's leg. Towards the end of it, Jeyne was thankful to find a pale near her feet. She pulled it into her lap and ducked her head. 

* * *

With his father bedridden, festering on the brink of lameness, Edric took power, Alyssa right alongside him, and Jeyne found herself suddenly the last to be considered in any decision made at Oar's Rest. If two sheepherders came to Torrek's Keep asking for their lord to settle matters of property, it was no longer she that that lord deferred to first if he was unsure how to proceed. If a raven arrived from House Banefort or Yarwyck or Estren asking after marriages, fosterings, or wishing to pick a fight, Jeyne heard the contents of those letters third or fourth hand. The door to the Lord of Oar's Rest's solar was no longer open to her night and day.

Alyssa took her seat at the high table as Edric had taken his father's. Rather than take up Alyssa's former seat, Jeyne began taking her meals in her husband's bedchamber. However, that did not save her the humiliation of having her lady maids usurped. Little Leonara, a distant Estren cousin who needed schooling in the art of being a lady elsewhere since her mother died, and Faya Hill, Lord Banefort's bastard daughter whom he trusted House Payne to keep from bearing bastards of her own until her father could figure out what to do with her, had both betrayed Jeyne to her younger counterpart. Something Alyssa was eternally smug. She never spoke a word about it, but Jeyne could see it on her face every time she came across the lot of them sipping wine and doing needlework.  

When Maester Timmett was not tending to his actual lord _,_ he was conversing late into the night with that lord's stand-in. Edric fancied himself an intelligent man. Always had. As a boy, he'd gone through stages where he'd fancied himself a philosopher, a theologian, an orator, and a scientific mind, sometimes all at once. He liked to talk to Timmett about things that made him feel smart knowing a thing or two about. Timmett was more than happy to confirm and praise Edric's limited knowledge on a range of subjects, if not teach him anything new or correct his misinformation--as long as Timmett received the funds to further his own research, Timmett was happy to talk. 

(It sometimes worried Jeyne what they talked about when she wasn't around to listen _._ As she watched her husband waste a way in his sickbed for weeks on end, she wondered terrible things about Timmett and her son.)

Fermont did not waver in his warm regard and courtesy towards Jeyne. They'd known each other too many years for things to suddenly change between them. But Fermont was dutiful. His loyalty and attentions were dominated by the acting Lord of Oar's Rest. Jeyne and Pate were left with the scraps that dutiful people like Fermont left their friends. 

For the first time since Pate's father ruled, Lady Jeyne was overlooked. 

"Perhaps I should thank them," Jeyne whispered to Pate from his bedside. Despite his drugged state, her husband was shocked. "I have not had so much time for needlework since before Edric was born. I've lost my touch." She barked a scornful laugh as she stabbed the fabric in her lap with a needle. Repeatedly. 

Pate reached out slowly to her and gave her wrist the best squeeze he could muster. Jeyne placed a hand over his, and husband and wife shared tight smiles. 

* * *

 Word of Podrick Payne reached Oar's Rest towards the end of the year in the form of a raven from Blackbridge, ten months following the boy's disappearance from King's Landing.

"He's in the company of Jaime Lannister, his squires, Lancel Lannister, Brienne of Tarth, Albar Royce, one Ser Gendry of Hollowhill, Tom Sevenstrings, Thoros of Myr, and three girls with children in tow. They've sixteen horses between them all, three wagons, and a letter from Lord Robert Arryn requesting safe passage that helped them through Goldentooth. They're on their way to the Crag and will be stopping here as well." Fermont explained to Jeyne and Pate at the latter's sickbed. Edric had apparently not thought it prudent to call his mother at least to the meeting he'd held over the raven hours earlier. 

"The boy's been off with the Kingslayer all this time?" Jeyne could not fathom how that had gone unreported. 

Fermont shook his head. "According to Irwyn, who did his best to drag information from the boy at his table, the boy was with Brienne of Tarth and Ser Hyle Hunt. Though he did spend time on his own. Eventually Lady Brienne and Ser Hyle joined Ser Jaime, which led to his mysterious detour into the Vale with his squires."

"Did the boy have anything to say for that?" Pate asked in weak voice. The exertion had him coughing, and Jeyne helped him take a drink of water. 

"The boy," Fermont paused thoughtfully. "Irwyn remarked that the boy skirted around the topic, but from what he can gather there was a skirmish with the Brotherhood Without Banners. Ser Hyle Hunt was killed. A consequence of the skirmish was a need to see Lord Baelish in the Vale. Mayhaps because he was once Master of Coin, or just as likely because he is Lord Paramount of the Riverlands these days and ought to have a hand in dealing with the Brotherhood."

"Or perhaps because they had knowledge that he was planning to murder Lord Robert." Jeyne muttered darkly. It had been shocking news when Ser Jaime left the Riverlands for the Vale without explanation, and an even greater shock when he arrested and executed Lord Baelish. On what charges was still a question to which there were many proposed answers, but Lady Jeyne favored the idea that he had ill intentions with his step-son. Harry the Heir and his Waynewood grandfather had been executed as well, after all. Fermont nodded solemnly at her words. 

"Mayhaps, My Lady, mayhaps. Whatever the case, shortly Baelish was disposed, the new Lord Protector Nestor Royce must have been of no use to Ser Jaime. He left shortly thereafter and returned to the Riverlands, just in time to combat the sudden unrest--"

"But not in time to save House Frey." It was a lucky thing that Petyr's betrothed was at Darry and not the Twins, otherwise the girl might have ended up like her cousins, uncles, and the late Walder Frey himself. Yes, the Brotherhood had only taken a few feminine heads--but what if Marissa had been one of those few?

Fermont did not nod or say anything to that particular remark. Instead, he continued, "Podrick witnessed Ser Lancel's arrival from King's Landing...I'm sorry to say that Lady Marissa may no longer be such a profitable match, My Lord and Lady. Word is that in the wake of the victory of Ser Robert Strong in Queen Cersei's trial-by-combat, he's become disillusioned with the Sparrow movement and may very well return to Lady Amarei. Marissa's claim to the Darry lands is even more uncertain than it was formerly."

Jeyne and Pate sat in livid silence for a moment. A vase smashed against the wall when that moment ended. "If he plans to return to the whore, why is Lancel with Podrick on his way here?!" Jeyne demanded. First Lord Buckwell. Now the Freys. What was next? Would Lucien call a Council of Faith to put aside Lynesse? 

Fermont did not shrink. He had been their steward too long. "We have no idea, My Lady."

Jeyne stood and went over to the window. She could not look at Fermont, and if she was lucky, she might catch sight of their visitors taking the bend in the river. Perhaps she could set Lancel ablaze with a fierce enough glower. 

"Go on." Pate ordered.

"There is not much more to say, My Lord. Your great-nephew is on his way here in the company of a large party along a journey to the Crag with an unknown purpose. The only thing left unsaid is that Podrick has been knighted sometime in the last few months by Ser Jaime." 

Pate laughed, pleased by this bit of news. Jeyne had to admit, even as she scowled at the horizon, that it was a fine bit of silver-lining. 

" _Ser Podrick Payne_. We haven't had one of those since Ilyn was a boy." 

* * *

 Jeyne studied Podrick's party thoroughly from on high before greeting them. They were a motley bunch. 

The Kingslayer's golden hand looked very _Lannister_ , but the Kingslayer did not with his scruffy beard and shaved mane. Brienne of Tarth was uglier than expected, with an entire cheek mauled off on top of her mannish body and dissatisfying features. Part of her had expected a Danny Flint or a Princess Nymeria, and she was disappointed. She mistook Lancel for an old man at first before recognizing the lad from that tourney years ago. He resembled the Toothless Lion, she remarked to the Wren beside her. Jeyne had never met Albar Royce before. By looks of him, Jeyne assumed he was a typical Valeman, and she wondered what business he had at the Crag. What business any of them had in all honesty. 

The squires kept close to the girls. One skinny boy kept particular close company with a girl with a broken nose and smashed teeth, who in turn kept close to two other girls. A strapping young woman with short black hair who walked with confidence and seemed fond of the mules pulling the wagons, and a younger girl, tall with a pretty face and blue eyes, but terrible hair. It was hacked off at her chin, the tips brown, and the mud color clinging to other places too, but mostly it was blood red. She must have dyed it and then sought to return it to its former glory upon realizing her sin against the Gods only to fail. 

A little boy with long brown hair whom Jeyne mistook for a girl at first stuck close to the girl with the mangled hair. He had a hand perpetually fisted in the fabric of her cloak. In the same girl's arms was a red-faced infant. The red hair spoke of kinship, and Jeyne wondered which man among the party fathered the babe, if any. Podrick seemed to hang close to the girl to Jeyne's woe, but then again, so did the Kingslayer. 

Jaime's other squires were not much of anything. They seemed nervous, but Jeyne would be as well if her house had risen against the Iron Throne and she was now a glorified hostage. Thoros of Myr and Tom Sevenstrings, however, were _quite_ a lot. Tom danced into the keep, singing a bastardized Rains of Castamere recounting the most recent slaughter at the Twins, while Thoros followed after in his livid red robes. The young knight Ser Gendry did not seem too eager but nonetheless followed after them, arms crossed and silent. If not for his imposing figure, he would be as dull as the Paege and Piper boys. 

When they all entered Torrek's Keep and went to sit down for dinner, Jeyne left the window, pressed a kiss to Pate's sweaty forehead, and went to greet them finally. 

Podrick had changed greatly. Of course he had. The last any of them had seen of him, the boy was four-years-old. At nearly fifteen, Podrick stood at his father's height. He was too young to stop growing, so Jeyne imagined he'd take after his uncles and acquire a tall stature. However, Jeyne knew he would never be thick with muscle like Raymun. Podrick was doomed to life as a slim tree. He still looked like her Jon, but older in a way Jon never got to be. His face had lost most of its baby fat, likely with the help of some starving along his journey, and his chin was stubbly. Someone had taught the boy how to shave. It couldn't have been Cedric, though; he'd died when Pod was just twelve, and Paynes were notorious late bloomers. 

Podrick bowed to his cousins. His chin didn't knock his knees and he kept his balance, but there was still an obvious awkwardness about him. Jeyne prayed he hadn't made a fool of himself at court and shamed the family. But then again, standing next to the Imp all the time must have emphasized his stature in more ways than one.

"My Lord, My Ladies." He addressed Edric, Alyssa, and Jeyne with a timid smile that he must have thought better of as it quickly disappeared. 

Edric grinned, opened his arms, and said, " _Cousin._ " He forced Podrick into a hug, and then he passed him along to Alyssa, who handed him off to Jeyne who awkwardly patted the rattled young knight on the back. He hadn't expected that. Neither had Jeyne. However, she had to commend her son for his showmanship. The rest of their guests seemed far more comfortable with their hosts following the gesture, and due to this they were able to cling fresh information from them. 

"So it seems that rumors that Harry the Heir was plotting to murder his young cousin along with Lord Baelish are true." Jeyne informed Pate later in the evening. "And the Brotherhood has  _not_ disbanded or vanished since the demise of Walder Frey. Ser Jaime and Lady Brienne report the group is quite active still further south, and they're being led by Brynden Tully." 

"Brynden Tully? How on Earth did he fall in with a rogue band of outlaws?" 

"How did Wenda Baratheon become the White Fawn? She was half-Targaryen, she went mad like her mother's family was prone to do. Brynden Tully was named after  _Bloodraven_. That was just inviting trouble!" 

"What of Lady Stoneheart then? There were rumors she was Catelyn Tully, Brynden's niece, or Sansa Stark even."

Jeyne chuckled darkly and recounted the latest rumor. "Since the Brotherhood slaughtered every Frey at the Twins, some of have been saying Lady Stoneheart bathed in all the blood that was spilled that night. Like Mad Danelle Lothston, her youth was restored and now she runs rampant in the Riverlands in a new, youthful body, with hair stained red with Frey blood." 

Pate frowned and seemed to sag on the bed. He looked like a rotting corpse. "I suppose if she really had been Catelyn Tully or her daughter, the Brotherhood wouldn't have killed Edmure Tully's wife and babe along with all Walder Frey's other progeny." He whispered. 

Jeyne brushed the hair from Pate's face and wondered how anyone could think the Brotherhood Without Banners heroes after what they'd done to Roslin Frey and her baby. When the Brotherhood tricked their way behind Walder Frey's walls, it was said they went straight to work on lobbing off the heads of the men--if they didn't hang them as they had in the woods--and squeezing the servants and Frey women for information. They wanted to know everyone who had a hand in the Red Wedding. Sister turned on sister, cousin on cousin, to save themselves, their daughters, their husbands, and sons. Whoever indicated Roslin in the plot had a place in each of the Seven Hells. And whoever slit her throat and then tore her baby from her womb would soon discover if there was an Eighth Hell. Surely if it existed, it did so for monsters such as the perpetrator of that crime. 

She wondered about Myriad Hill at Blackbridge. She would be having her own babe soon. Jeyne hoped that word of what had happened to Edmure Tully's child had been kept from her. Such stress might cause her to miscarry. 

There was a knock at the door, and the Wren entered, looking anxious. 

"My Lady." She bowed and then quickly presented Jeyne with a letter. "I received this after my performance at tonight's dinner. It's from Blackbridge, from Myriad, My Lady. But it really wasn't for me. It's for _you_." 

Jeyne took the letter and opened it, confused by the secretiveness of the correspondence. What would Myriad have to hide?

She read it aloud, 

_My dear Lady aunt,_

_Though I imagine you are still some sore with me up the river, I feel I must inform you of something. When Podrick was here at Blackbridge, he confided in me what he did not dare share with anyone else. He does not come to Oar's Rest simply to rest his party along the way to the Crag or fill his belly or even to ask for money. Before he leaves, Podrick will make a confession._

_What that confession is, I have no right to share, but I beseech you, Lady Jeyne, forgive him. And if you cannot do that, at least let him go with his life. What he did may have been dishonorable, but he has the potential to repent for it and do great things. Those people, they're all out to do something great and make up for the tragedies and failures of the past. Do not snuff out hope--the world has done enough of that lately._

_He's a lot more than Alyn's son now. He's more than the candlestick girl's, either. Podrick has got a girl he might really be falling for, My Lady. The girl with the red and brown hair, with the baby and the boy. And that baby and that boy--they aren't his by blood, but the same goes for the girl, and a lot of kids these day have already lost their first mothers and fathers. Don't go taking their second ones._

_I would warn you to be kind to the girl, too, but Ser Jaime and Lady Brienne have that taken care of. They swore an oath to protect that girl, My Lady. And that girl swore an oath to protect those kids. Everyone in that party has sworn an oath to be a brother or a sister to each other, regardless of what they were before. For Podrick to be a part of that makes me proud._

_Your humble niece,_

_Myriad Payne_

* * *

"You called, My Lady?"  She'd ordered a scullery maid to the boy's chamber and had her bring him up to the battlements. Years ago from the spot she stood on now, she'd watch Podrick and Cedric drift down the Tumblestone towards the Riverlands, Myriad weeping beside her. 

Jeyne regarded the boy coolly. "Yes, Pod. I thought we might speak alone." 

The boy hesitated some before coming out with it. "What about, My Lady?" 

"Your reason for being here." Podrick stiffened as if he'd come face to face with a gorgon. "Myriad has informed me of your ulterior motives. Out with it." Jeyne ordered. 

Podrick remained so silent that he might as well have been his cousin Ilyn. 

Jeyne, nerves raw from weeks of disrespect from her son and his wife and all the rest of the household, was offended. " _I_ will decide if your confession needs to reach my husband's ear. Due to the affection I hold for Myriad and her mother, I will see to it that you do not come to harm for your deeds, whatever they be. However, part of that is softening the blow if I truly must inform my husband and son. Both are still too sore with Myriad and Gavan to do them of the favor of bestowing mercy on your head, Podrick. Now, out with it!" 

Podrick reddened and refused to meet her eye, but he was a well-trained lad. He did as he was told. 

"My Lady, Gavan wouldn't wantLord Pate or Edric to give me mercy. I killed his brother. I killed Cedric." 

Jeyne was appalled and recoiled from the boy, the  _kinslayer._ Any plans she had to use the contents of Myriad's letter and the boy's confession as leverage for more information from the boy evaporated. The boy had just confessed to murdering Cedric. Jeyne shook her head in disbelief. How could a boy of twelve kill his cousin? How could a squire kill his knight? Jeyne frowned. _How_ , indeed. 

"Podrick, Gavan would not have you dead over an accident or something you could not help. Ser Robert Brax did not teach him to be wrathful, and he inherited Irwyn's sentimental nature. Go back to Blackbridge when you can, tell him yourself, and Gavan will forgive you and embrace you like a little brother, appreciating your honesty." 

Podrick shook his head vehemently. As she had carried on, he'd become increasingly distressed; still refusing to look at her, face burning, and sweating nervously, even crying. Jeyne felt sick, realizing the boy has spoken true the first time. His confession no self-abasing exaggeration; Podrick had truly murdered his cousin Cedric. She demanded to know exactly what happened, and that he look her in the eye while doing it. 

It took three tries for Podrick to croak the first syllables of his sin. "We were with Lord Tywin's half of the host, Cedric and I. We road near the front, among the friends Cedric had made during the Greyjoy Rebellion when he was a squire. They were all knights by then, with squires of their own. Older squires than me. I was just barely twelve, and they were fifteen, sixteen, or older. They fought better than me. Really because they were older, but Cedric said it was my own fault. Young as I was, I'd been a squire longer than any of those older boys.

"As we marched, Cedric became more and more embarrassed by me. I couldn't fight very well, or ride the best, or even cook a rabbit without burning it. Cedric didn't let me talk to anyone. Not that he'd ever really let me before--he said I sounded too lowborn to talk to other squires and knights and ladies--he would get very angry with me, My Lady, for saying a word. And then he'd get angry at me for  _not_ saying a word...I think maybe he just wanted an excuse to yell at me or hit me. If I couldn't be a good squire, I think he wanted to make it look to his friends that he at least knew how to handle me, like he wasn't just letting me walk all over him, like all my shortcomings were my own fault, not his." Podrick stumbled over further description of Cedric's abuse, which apparently predated the war by several years. The boy could not recall the start of it, just as he could not recall his father's face or his mother's voice. It'd simply always been a reality that Cedric liked him better mute, would hit him if he didn't jump to a task quick enough, and would call him stupid for not understanding obvious things, just as it had always been the reality that his father was dead and his mother had abandoned him for his father's richer cousin. 

Jeyne at first dismissed the boy's stories as bids for sympathy towards his actions. But she could tell the boy didn't expect a drop of the stuff from anybody. Even  _he_ could not excuse his actions. Before he even got around to describing Cedric's death, Pod had apologized a half hundred times and slandered himself as far more than a kinslayer. "Traitorous bastard," He'd said more than once. "Cowardly" and "ungrateful" passed his lips innumerable times. "Worthless," was said so many times that the boy either believed it, or once had. 

"Tell me what happened to Cedric, Podrick." Jeyne ordered. It was a soft command for her. 

Podrick fell silent, composing himself. Then with a deep breath, he concluded his tale. "I hated Cedric. I won't lie, My Lady. But I was also very afraid of him. So when he ordered me out into the field with him, as his friends had done with their own squires, I went. If I were smarter--if I hadn't wanted to make him like me so things might change--I'd have hidden somewhere in the camp until he left for battle with the other soldiers and knights. Washerwomen and the other squires had bid me to, offered me tents to hide in and pleaded with me to tell one of Cedric's commanders of his cruelty, but...I was Cedric's squire. That was the only thing I had ever been. I  _had_ to do as he ordered.

"We took to the field in a sortie to fight some riverlanders near Pinkmaiden. Cedric had given me a sword and put me on the back of his horse. He ordered me to defend his rear against the Piper men behind him while he hacked and slashed at the Piper men in front of him. At some point, Cedric became blood hungry. He dismounted and entered the thick of it. He ordered for me to stick close and protect his horse, but also to keep on defending his rear too, and to act as a human--horse-- _horseman_ shield." Podrick seemed exhausted just recounting the demands. Jeyne could only imagine what it had been like trying to carry them out. 

Podrick took a shuddering breath. "I got knocked off his rounsey, though. On the ground, I was nearly trampled, and men kicked me. I dragged myself up from the ground by an empty stirrup. But once I was on my feet, any man that didn't see me before started slashing at me. I ducked and fought my way out of the bundle of men Cedric had led us into--not with my sword. I just elbowed and ducked my way under their arms, and even crawled between one man's legs. When I got out of the knot, I was so scared that I took off running in the direction of camp. Or at least I _thought_ I did. I almost ran head first into an enemy sortie, and had to run and duck into a creek for cover. I found other men and boys hiding there, and we were all safe for a while. But then Ser Daven Lannister rode by and ordered us out and back into the fray. I still had my sword, but I didn't use it. I just kept trying to find new places to hide. I ran all over the field, leaping over dead men and horses if I didn't trip over 'em." 

"Podrick, what happened to Cedric?" Jeyne pressed, impatient. She was starting to think the boy really had been exaggerating his guilt. Did the boy not see how a Piper foot soldier felling Cedric was not his fault? 

"My Lady," Podrick whispered, and his tone had gone flat and lifeless. Ilyn had not sounded like that even once when he had his tongue. "I..." He took a deep, wet breath. "They called a retreat near dusk. I felt so guilty for my cowardice that I did not immediately follow the rest of them back to camp. I searched the field and the bodies left behind for our house colors. I found Cedric's rounsey dead, so I thought at first that he had died as well. But then I heard him, screaming from clear across the field, _'You bastard!'_  

"He was injured, using his sword like a walking-stick, hobbling towards me. I ran to help him, and he hit me. Knocked me right into the dirt with his fist.  _'Worthless coward, where did you go?'_ He screamed at me, and he tried to grab me but I scrambled away and to my feet. I kept trying to get at me, to hit me again, but I stayed out of his reach. That only made him angrier, though. He called me some more awful names, and then...he said,  _'You're no better than your whore mother! You were set to abandon me just as she left you and your father!_ I _, who took care of you all these years, you left me to_ die!' 

"He swung his sword at me. I stumbled out of its way and held up my own sword without thinking. And Cedric was furious. He kept comin' after me, My Lady. I kept tryin' to say I was sorry, but he wouldn't stop. I tried not to strike back at him at first, just dodgin' and tryin' to get him calm so I could help him back to camp, but...My Lady, he made me so angry!" The life was back in Podrick's voice, and it was harrowing. "I just couldn't take anymore, My Lady!

"So I struck back. I knocked the blade right from his hands and got him on his back in the dirt where I thought he belonged with the way he'd been treating me. There was a sword to his neck and everything, but do you know what Cedric said?" Podrick was in tears and Jeyne was dumbstruck. "He glared up at me with _so much hate_ , and he said,  _'You're nothing but a worthless half-lowborn bastard.'_ " Podrick seethed the words through gritted teeth, and Jeyne could imagine Cedric doing the same on some far off field. 

"I drove my sword through his throat, My Lady." Said Podrick. "And then I went back to camp, drank my first three flagons of ale, and made myself sick. The next morning, a hedge knight from Crakehall named Ser Lorimer woke me with a pale of cold water. He'd seen it all, from Cedric's treatment of me to Cedric's end the evening before, and he offered me a place with him guarding Lord Tywin's baggage train. He promised not to tell anyone either, and I took him up on it. I've carried on the last three years knowing myself to be a kinslayer while letting everyone treat me like an innocent boy, My Lady, and that might be the worse crime. Now are you going to tell your son and husband all this, or not?" For an instant, the look in the boy's eye reminded Jeyne of his cousin Ilyn. 

* * *

 

Jeyne watched Podrick and his party load onto barges at the bottom of the steep hill Oar's Rest was built into. They were an odd bunch that her nephew had found himself with, but they seemed like the best company he'd ever had. As he was forbidden from ever returning to Oar's Rest or Blackbridge, they were likely also the only family he had in the world now. Wherever they took him would be his home. 

Far below her, Jeyne saw the purple-cloaked figure that must have been Podrick take the infant from the girl with red-and-brown hair while she helped the long-haired boy onto the barge. He was shaking so hard that Jeyne could see it from the battlements of Torrek's Keep. Podrick bounced the babe in his arms nervously like a new father. 

That was his daughter, in a way, according to Myriad. And that trembling boy a son. That girl with dreadful hair a lover. Someday, they all might build a life on some patch of farmland, or in a lord's castle with Podrick as his sworn sword. But not for a while yet. The party still had business at the Crag, and then at Casterly Rock, and later still in the Reach and King's Landing. Jeyne wondered if word of the party's intrigues might reach Oar's Rest in the future. 

The mules began to tug the barges up river, fighting against the icy current. Jeyne watched the barges and their boarders shrink into the distance before they finally disappeared around a bend in the river. Still, Jeyne did not turn away until she heard someone approaching her. It was the Wren. 

"Yes, Wylla?" 

Her old friend the singer grinned with tears in her eyes. She presented another letter. A happier one than the last, as it turned out. 

"Myriad has given birth to a boy, My Lady." 

* * *

 

_A family tree for those who might appreciate a visual aid to all this House Payne family history._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please review! Sorry for the long hiatus!!!


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